


Doing it the right way

by et_memoriam



Series: For the Betterment of France [2]
Category: Dress Up! Time Princess (Video Game)
Genre: Conception, Developing Relationship, F/M, POV Second Person, Vanilla, affair, smug
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-15
Updated: 2021-03-15
Packaged: 2021-03-23 19:41:24
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,963
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/30060558
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/et_memoriam/pseuds/et_memoriam
Summary: You still don't bear an heir. After many subdued attempts to get the King to try for conception again, you decided to seek the sometimes disagreeable advisor for help.
Relationships: Marie Antoinette & Blaisdell (Dress Up! Time Princess)
Series: For the Betterment of France [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2180892
Comments: 1
Kudos: 14





	Doing it the right way

**Author's Note:**

> Some waffling (I learned that word here and I really resonate with it LOL)  
> This was originally going to be more graphic but I was so invested in the plot that I toned it down.

It's been about a month since your first proper sexual encounter with Louis, it was the only one that was seen to the end. You haven’t lost interest in each other, if anything you’ve been showering each other with every other type of love. He just never had any more inclinations for sex despite his intense feelings for you. Any hints for more were embarrassingly brushed off. And you feared that this would pose a problem as you had bled last week, nullifying the entire point of Blaisdell's intervention.

After many subdued attempts to get the King to try for conception again, you decided to seek the sometimes disagreeable advisor.

\--

You found Blaisdell in his private office. It was mostly plain compared to the elaborate furnishings you were used to seeing. He left most of the windows covered save for the one behind his writing desk, where he was concentrating on a pile of documents. The backlighting in the dim dusty room was intimidating but you wouldn’t dare appear meek before him. You stood a bit away from his desk, making sure to rustle your gown as a signal that you were present.

He tapped his finger on the desk in a clockwork manner, still looking at the papers and pretending to not notice your approach. After waiting for a bit, you stepped closer and leaned on the edge of the desk. The tapping ceased but he still took his time to look up at you and even when he did, he held his papers up in front of him.

He was playing around with you, it was obvious that you came for his help so he was going to revel in the aggravation you must be feeling...

Still no acknowledgment, you cleared your throat and cocked your brow, hands on your hips.

“Oh, my queen,” Blaisdell slammed the paper down and looked at you smugly, “I didn’t see you there. What brings you to my office of wonders?” He stood up, arms out welcoming you and stepped into a brief chivalrous bow. Part of you wanted to try your luck on your own again but you knew you would fall into a tedious cycle of revisiting this man.

“I need…” You tensed up, embarrassed to ask. The words escaped in a split second, “your help.”

He curiously tilted his head, “Of course my queen, whatever do you need?” His eyes narrowed and he approached with mischievous intentions, stopping just before he could brush against your extravagant skirt.

You lost your composure, instinctually creating space and retreated towards the dark edge of the room. You stopped mid retreat and stood your ground, standing tall once again. Blaisdell took note of this as indicated by his steely eyes, he filled you with uncertainty.

"It's about your lesson," you said, crossing your arms.

“Mh, which lesson, my dear?” you hated the ways he patronized you. But he knew you wouldn't have the audacity to stop him.

“That depraved perversion you called a lesson,” you took a step towards him for a change, “Your deviant voyeurisms; kissing my husband, feeling me up, watching us fuck.” You reproached with a grin.

Clearly, he did not appreciate your assertiveness; nor your accusation. The confidence in his eyes turned to displeasure as he began to loom closer over you. His discomforting shadow sent you walking backwards until you were trapped against the wall. “I advise you to watch your tone, little queen.”

You could feel the adrenaline rushing through your core, something about the advisor's natural dominance ignited another emotion alongside your contempt. It brought you back to that night with him, you tried to snap back at him but choked on your words.

He realized he pushed you too far and relaxed his demeanor for you to regain your composure.

“I bled,” you were concise, almost exhausted, trying to continue.

“Ah…” Blaisdell maintained a stone faced expression, pondering the prospects of your concerns. “You simply need to do it again. My queen, I would expect this sheepish confession from the King but you? You are far brasher than this.”

“I asked. I asked and I hinted and I pleaded. He acts as if I hadn’t said anything and I fear pursuing will bring us apart. We’ve made so much progress already and-”

He brought a finger to your lips. “I assume you told him you bled?”

“N-no…”

“This is a matter of the future of France. If he knew this, he would certainly oblige.”

“I’m afraid I disagree,” you swatted his hand from your face. A part of you was disappointed that he suggested to continue pressuring Louis. It wasn’t just because you knew the King was uneasy but also because you were hoping he’d offer an alternative solution. It was a sick thing to hope for, but you couldn’t get enough of his mischievous deviance, even if he claims he’s exclusively professional. It was a bit unfair that you were obligated to love Louis since waking as Marie, he was a wonderful gentleman and a kind husband, but you found something alluring about the cynical and clandestine Blaisdell.

He stood still for a moment, letting you figure the issue for yourself. Obviously, you weren’t going to speak up so he started, “We could arrange for another demonstration, one that I can see to the end.”

That solution gave you a headache. “Why didn’t you just do that in the first place, though?”

No comment. His emotionless eyes and unresponsive posture had you suspicious.

“You say you’re strictly professional, but I know why you left,” You were bluffing but grasped onto the advisors’ coat, tugging him closer to you. That would really sell it; you were just a curious, naive royal in his eyes. It wouldn’t take much to lower his guard. “Wouldn’t it be quite embarrassing for you to be aroused after talking up your resilience?”

A sigh escaped his now tense and firm chest, half-heartedly ignoring your jab, “I thought my job was done, but…” He swiftly pressed his body against yours, pushing you against the wall, “I suppose I’ll have to do it the right way.”

You could feel his fingers slide into the collar of your bodice. In one swift motion, he tore the fabric down to your back and forced it off your torso to reveal your corset. He went after the fastener of your crinoline and quickly removed the cumbersome dress from your figure. Before you could react, he whisked you into his arms, weightlessly carrying you away from the pillowy garments. He placed you in front of his desk and dexterously unlaced your corset. You could still feel a tightness around, the affair was affecting your moral compass. It was possible to ignore his sexual involvement before but now it was just the two of you… The nervousness crept in your stomach, you reached back and halted his busy arm.

"Shall I stop?" Blaisdell was quick to respond.

Had he not spoken so maturely, you would have said yes. But his tone annoyed you, deep down you were becoming more determined to break his visage. And so, instead of giving into your virtue, you turned and took hold of the back of his head. Forcing his lips to yours, he was uncharacteristically receptive as you led the kiss. He made no reaction once you pulled away, you gripped his coat and threw it off of him. Your aggravation built up and you tore the buttons of his shirt to reveal the subtle musculature of his mature torso. Your aggression abated once you stood before his bare skin. You blushed as you realized how excited you were to touch him, regardless of your petty attempt to prove him wrong.

“Are you done, little queen?” He smiled and finished removing your corset. “You’re quite expressive, how peculiar,” He lifted you to sit on the desk and sensually slid off your bloomers.

"For being so contrarian and insufferable, you're unbelievably charming," His warmth radiated against your nude body as he leaned into you, caressing your inner thighs.

"Am I? Or am I just good at what I do?"

You unconsciously presented yourself to him and became overwhelmed by that familiar sensation of his fingers on your sex. He put his face against yours, deeply inhaling your floral aroma. The roughness of his cheek comforted you and you caressed it as he pleasured you.  
You didn't attempt any banter, only wanting to savor the unexpected sweetness of his touch. Once you could both feel the slickness dripping out of you, Blaisdell gripped onto your thighs, grasping and squeezing their girth.

“Be mindful of your volume, we can’t have anyone hearing your angelic ecstasy,” his sultry voice made your heart flutter as he revealed himself before you. It was girthy, throbbing and enticing to your entrance. He watched you yearn for it, smiling as you realized he was building the anticipation.

“What are you waiting for?” You blushed.

He leaned to your ear and gave you a sweet kiss, entering you slowly. The width of him was a surprise you didn’t prepare yourself for, but accommodated quickly. Once he was certain of your comfort, he increased his pace. The change was almost as abrupt as his start, you couldn’t tell if the unfamiliar feeling was uncomfortable or something new and exciting. Regardless, you wouldn’t stop because of your confusion. He was so perfect and meticulous in every move he made, perhaps he really was just following the steps to successful intercourse…

You could feel a break in his rhythm as he held you tighter. The change brought you back to your senses and you could hear Blaisdell rasping a brief groan. It was almost like he couldn’t keep up with his visage, like he was losing his professionalism and gaining genuine sexual interest... 

A smile crept along your flushed face, you hugged back at him, pushing into each of his thrusts. The advisor trembled at your involvement, gasping quickly as he moved faster. You moved to kiss him in between his moans, your moist soft lips and warm sensual breath sent him over and he buried his seed inside you. You could feel him hot and pulsing, his submissive climax was electrifying. Your own orgasm was inexplicable, it was a sensation of forbidden lust and a trembling man in your arms.

"You're certain this has no meaning beyond business?" You teased.

He was still catching his breath and spoke in between panting, "I suppose impregnating a Queen was far more thrilling than I expected." After a moment of kissing your warm alabaster skin, Blaisdell stepped away. You remained laying on your back, angling your hips to guide the sperm towards your womb. The advisor paid little attention as he efficiently got dressed. He pulled at the opening of his coat, seeing if he could conceal his torn shirt. Then he gathered your garments, approaching to dress you.

You playfully snatched the pile of fabrics from him, "I'll take care of that. You've helped more than enough." You flashed him a flirty smile.

"I hope so," he returned to his stern demeanor, a trace of pink across his cheeks and sat back to his papers.

You looked at the tear in the back of your bodice. The best you could do was maintain some sort of temporary assemblage of an untarnished gown, at least long enough to stride back to your room. And that’s exactly what you wore, hugging yourself to secure the garments in place. You walked uncomfortably, still feeling the slickness between your legs. Luckily, your trip through the halls was quiet, only passing a reserved servant or two. After slipping into your room, you collapsed on your bed still thinking about the rugged advisor.


End file.
